Thunder and Lightning
by Glistening Sun
Summary: Andy and Sharon finally have a 'date', but it doesn't go quite the way Andy had planned it. An episode tag to 4x05 inspired by the prompt 'when it rains/snows/storms' I received from Captainbadassmarshmallowfluff.


**Thunder and Lightning - an episode tag to 4x05**

 **by Glistening Sun**

Rusty asked her questions all through dinner trying to find out what was wrong with her. Nothing was wrong with her – or was it? Nothing except that Andy Flynn had asked her out on a romantic dinner. Well, a dinner at _the most romantic_ restaurant in LA. _One_ of the most romantic places. That was a date. Right? That was how you asked a girl, or a woman, out on a date. Because, truth be told, she'd been expecting Andy to do that ever since their conversation with Nicole before the Nutcracker last December. Was it so wrong that she expected to be asked, formally, before their wonderful friendship would turn into more? She certainly hadn't thought so at the time, but she had begun to reconsider that during the countless dinners, outings and family occasions since then.

Sharon lay in bed, tossing and turning, desperately trying to get some sleep, but sleep eluded her. A romantic dinner with her best friend Andy, a dinner that he actually called romantic. Oh my God, what should she wear? And what should she do with her hair? Andy had complimented her on her hair recently, but she couldn't remember how she had worn it. Oh dear!

She never did fall asleep that night and it would have been a short night anyway, because at just a few minutes past 4 am her phone started chirping with the familiar ringtone Rusty had programmed into her phone. Andy's ringtone. Andy. Why would he call her so early? She sat up with a start. The mystery was soon resolved when she heard Provenza arguing with none other than Chief Taylor in the background.

"You need to come and rescue your division before Provenza talks himself into a heart attack," he quipped and despite this being a clearly work related call she felt oddly touched by the intimacy of talking to him in nothing but her silk nighty.

The case was a strange one, a dead celebrity in a Jacuzzi that had literally been boiling. They had dead celebrities in Jacuzzis before, although normally the water had been lukewarm. If that wasn't enough, Sanchez then found another three dead bodies stacked meticulously in cold storage. Why that particular former Disney child star needed a cold storage in the basement was beyond her and it only got more complicated when one of those dead bodies turned out to be the sister of the Police Commissioner's ex-wife. She started calling it the perfect storm when Morales determined that the dead woman had been high on a cocktail of pretty much every illicit substance known to man. "Or woman," the doctor quipped, "but I doubt she would have been able to do more than crawl through her own vomit."

Not the picture Sharon wanted to have on the day of her _romantic_ dinner with Andy. Andy who, when they finally found a moment alone, called their case a 'clusterfuck' making her tsk and shake her head in disapproval. Then, in an uncharacteristic show of bravery because she had said yes to their romantic dinner, Andy leaned in close, "Just admit it, Sharon, you don't mind the dirty talk as long as you don't need to say the words." When she couldn't contain her smile but thankfully managed to somehow force her face into _not_ blushing, he said in a much lower voice just how sorry he was to catch a murder today on all days. "Rain check?", she offered and he smiled, "Rain check it is."

The case heated up as Los Angeles found itself in the grip of one of those increasingly frequent summer heatwaves. Everybody was stressed, and hot, and it seemed like the entire brass of the LAPD and the major's office was bearing down on Major Crimes to solve the case the tabloids had christened 'the steaming hot celebrity'. When they finally found their murderer and tied it all nicely with a deal Sharon sent everyone home early, for once leaving the bulk of the paperwork for the next day. It was too hot to concentrate and the normally trusty air-conditioning of the PAB was starting to play up so the temperatures, and some tempers, had reached a boiling point – no pun intended.

Andy found her in her office after everyone else had gone home, smiling as he leant against the doorframe. How did her Lieutenant always manage to look so good – while she felt like a sticky blob of something, her make-up long melted away during that final interrogation. Gosh, he was handsome and the way he was smiling at her made her insides flutter. A romantic dinner! Oh dear! She had managed to push those thoughts aside for most of the past week except for the nights when she had lain in bed thinking about her Lieutenant – but now she was downright giddy.

"Listen, since it's calmed down here, what do you say to dinner _tonight_?" he said almost casually.

"I'd like that." Gosh, she was surprised how easily this came, certainly a lot less awkward than last time he'd asked her.

"Great, I'll pick you up at seven?"

When Andy knocked on her door, seven o'clock on the dot, she almost regretted having said yes to dinner tonight. The poor man, he must be so hot in that beautiful three-piece suit. He had obviously remembered a conversation they had a few months ago during a stake-out where she had teased him about his suspenders and said how much she'd always liked the three-piece suits. She was touched that he would wear one for her, tonight of all days when the town was sweltering in heat. Gosh, and he did look handsome in the light grey with a tie that matched the colour of her dress. Red, the red of flame trees that reminded her of long ago holidays in the tropics with her parents, when she had been a teenager. Flame trees along the streets of the town, bright and red.

"Sharon?" His gentle voice pulled her out of her daydream and she grabbed her purse, smiling and swallowing hard because she couldn't find the right words to say.

"Andy," her voice was hoarse with emotion when she finally did speak and could only hear her own heartbeat. But it seemed that they didn't need words as his hand found its familiar place at the small of her back gently leading her to the elevator. She was grateful for the cool of Andy's air-conditioned car, because being so close to him made her feel the heat even more.

"I think we might get a thunderstorm tonight," he commented as he pulled out onto the street, the sky above them luminous and slightly threatening, clouds building up in that familiar fashion. He expertly manoeuvred them through the familiar roads and soon they reached the oceanfront where they found themselves in a traffic jam typical this time of day. The heat always made the drivers even more irritable and, despite their mostly air-conditioned car interiors, prone to the aggressive driving that Sharon so despised. She noticed Andy fidgeting. He wasn't a patient man and seeing him trying to control himself for her sake made her feel warm and fuzzy.

"Andy," she placed a hand on his arm, "we've waited a week for tonight, a few more minutes won't make a difference now. It'll keep, remember?"

"You made that connection?" How could that surprise him? Of course she had! So she smiled and she could feel some of the tension leaving him as he returned her smile. "You're pretty amazing, you know that?"

The wind had picked up and was blowing up dust and sand, the palm trees swaying against the background of clouds bathed in a murky orange by the setting sun. The whole scenery had taken on an ominous glow. Then, all of a sudden, the first bolt of lightning struck over the ocean.

"That's shaping up to be a big one," Andy said and Sharon knew he was trying to fill the silence his earlier comment had left. What could she tell him? That he was the amazing one? That she couldn't wait to dance with him, later, after their romantic dinner?

"It is. Have I ever told you how much I love thunderstorms?" Her words were punctuated by a roaring clap of thunder.

"Well, it looks like you might get lucky tonight…"

"Yes, this is going to be a big one," she interjected before he could become aware or embarrassed about the double meaning she was sure he hadn't intended. Almost as if to prove her right, a gust of wind shook the car and then the skies opened into a torrential downpour. Within a matter of minutes the road was flooded, traffic had now come to a complete hold. When the wind ripped off one of the palm leaves, Sharon made a little surprised sound and giggled.

"Is this amusing to you?"

"I was just thinking. I shouldn't have asked for a rain check when there was no rain."

"We'll never get there in time now," he said sounding a little angry, but mostly sad.

"Pull over, Andy. We might not be able to make it to dinner, but we can still enjoy the thunderstorm."

"I never knew you liked thunderstorms. How did I miss this?"

Because Sharon had sat out the last big one on her balcony, worrying if Rusty would make it home and dreaming about the man who was sitting next to her now. "And I don't even know how you feel about thunderstorms. Are you afraid?"

"I actually rather like to watch them." As they laughed companionably their eyes connected for a moment – and lingered. Gosh, the way this man looked at her!

"Pull over so we're facing the ocean. I know this is probably not how you planned tonight to go, but let's make the best out of what we have."

"Rain check indeed." Andy grumbled and moved into one of the parking spaces at the side of the road. "You know," he said switching off the engine and turning to look at her, "I had a little speech prepared for tonight to tell you how I feel about you and now that keeps going around in my head and I can't think of anything else to say."

"Why don't you tell me now?"

"In here? Where you have nowhere to go? Sharon, I was hoping for candles, and music."

"We have lightning and you could turn on the radio."

"And if you, by any chance, don't like what I'm going to tell you?"

"I'll take that risk. Andy, I've been looking forward to tonight for a whole week."

"You have?"

"Gosh, of course I have, Andy!" She couldn't ask him, because, as much as she didn't feel like it right now, she was still his commanding officer and she couldn't … well, and then she expected _him_ to ask. She wanted to be asked. "I'm not really in the habit of being asked to go to one of the most romantic places in Los Angeles." Truth be told, she _wanted_ to hear him say it, she wanted that moment, and she wanted to know what exactly he would say.

"I don't make a habit out of asking that either."

"So … tell me. Say what you had planned to say in the restaurant. Say it now. Here."

A bold of lightning lit up the inside of the vehicle immediately followed by another rolling thunder. The storm was directly above them now and traffic still wasn't moving. Instead, the sounds of the rain changed. Hail.

"Sharon, you're my friend, my best friend. I feel like I know you better than I've ever known anyone. Well, your love for thunderstorms not included, but I do like discovering these new things about you. You are my friend and that alone is infinitely precious to me. You've been there for me a lot … with my family, but also just with me. You know, I think I know you better than I ever knew Joanne."

"Gosh, yes! I certainly know you much better than I knew Jack when I married him or when I divorced him!"

"Well, I'm not exactly proposing marriage. That might be … a bit hasty."

God, this man was adorable, the way he chuckled a bit self-consciously. Hasty indeed. "Just a little bit," she agreed.

"But I am proposing that we, well, that we call our meetings dates and … hey, is that okay?" All of a sudden, he seemed incredibly nervous, wringing his hands and fiddling with his sobriety ring. This time, Sharon didn't put her hand on his arm, but touched his knee instead. "I'd like that, Andy. I'd like that very much."

And in that moment, nothing mattered anymore, not the rain and hail, not the thunder or the wind that was ripping the leave of the palm trees. "So this is our first date?" Sharon's heart melted a little at the tentativeness with which he asked, and she wanted him to know just how much she, too, wanted this. "Yes!" she said, nodding almost a bit forcefully.

"At this point, I was planning on asking you for a dance so we could … defuse the moment and so I could hold you and … you know, really hold you." Andy had taken her hand during these last words and was holding it gently between his own now. "I would have led you to the dancefloor and pulled you close, a little closer than strictly necessary."

She squeezed his hand and leaned a little more towards him, allowing herself for the first time to get lost in his eyes instead of looking away just before it became too intense. "Closer than strictly necessary - I would have liked that."

"I would have whispered into your ear just how much I like you and I might have tried to kiss your hair, or the skin at your temple even," he confessed.

Sharon shivered at the thought of his soft lips against her skin. "I would have preferred a kiss on my temple," she hummed, enthralled by the moment.

"And if you had hummed like that, I would have kissed you again and …" he reached out and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, "I would have touched your hair like I've been wanting to do for so very long." His hand lingered and she tilted her head just a little until she could feel his touch against her cheek. "And if you had responded like that, Sharon, I think I would have tried to kiss you."

The words hung there between them and she leaned a little more into his touch, his hand gentle and yet firm against her cheek. She smiled as her heart beat an erratic rhythm and turned her face so she could kiss the inside of his wrist. "I … Andy, I would have liked that. To be kissed. By you." And then she closed her eyes, waiting. She could feel the air around her shift as Andy moved, she could smell the distinct mixture of his aftershave and him as he came closer, his breath barely noticeable yet clearly there across her face, a hint of breathmints … and just him.

Andy.

And then … his lips on her forehead, soft like a whisper. His other hand came up so he was holding her face in both hands now, like some precious piece of glass or a tiny bird. She wondered briefly how such strong and big hands could feel so gentle. His lips on her temple, like a feather. His hands moving into her hair, making her shiver with pleasure at the sensation. His forehead resting against hers for the briefest of moments and then … finally … the lightest of touches of his lips against hers. So soft. She hummed impatiently, and there it was again, the feeling of his lips, with more pressure this time … and then more, far more than she had ever imagined.


End file.
